Happy Everything

By Debby Caruso

Happy Everything is the ongoing story of Rhonda and James,
following them from Merry Hanukkah directly into the much anticipated
second installment in the Merry Hanukkah series.
Everyone’s favorite newlyweds have settled into married life, but now it’s
Dez and Jack’s turn to make it official. In typical

• Language: English
• Publisher: Debra Caruso
• Release date: Sep 19, 2019
• ISBN: 9781732519039

Book preview

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Chapter Forty

Chapter Forty-One

Chapter Forty-Two

Chapter Forty-Three

Chapter Forty-Four

Chapter Forty-Five

Chapter Forty-Six

Chapter Forty-Seven

Chapter Forty-Eight

Chapter Forty-Nine

Chapter Fifty

Acknowledgements

Chapter One

A re you sure you want to do this? I reach across the café table and squeeze her hand, holding her gaze as I stir my latte. "I mean, are you sure you want to do it like this?"

I truly believe it’s the best option, she nodded. And you know I never wanted the big to-do anyway. That’s you, my friend. That was never really me. She sighed and then smiled big and pretty.

Yes…I ah, I tend to over-do.

You?

Me.

Never. She shakes her head vehemently, and then we laughed the laugh of old friends who don’t need to embellish.

Come on, back to work. I grab what was left of my latte and give her a sort-of-side-hug-pat-on-the-shoulder thing as we exit our favorite coffee place.

As we walk back to work, I marvel over the fact that we never seemed to tire of each other; Dez and I work together, we hang out together when we aren’t working, and we celebrate almost every holiday together.

Translation: I force Dez to come to my house and be my wingwoman for every holiday I possibly can. Every possible event, made-up holiday or real, I somehow manage to coerce my very best friend into being a part of my chaos.

Friends really are the very best family.

I count myself lucky as we part and go off to finish brainstorming the latest grand scheme: a new way to sell protein bars in an already crowded marketplace. I sigh deeply as I take in my cluttered desk, knowing that I need to get organized in order to put my brain to work.

Thankfully, I am saved by the phone. I dive for it when I see that it’s James.

Hey! I just called you on your cell but it went straight to voice mail. Were you in a meeting? He says this by way of greeting.

Well, hello to you too… I act huffy but I’m sure to be betrayed by the smile in my voice. I was in the elevator.

Gotcha. Hey, listen…do you want to meet me for a quick bite after work? I have to meet Jack later‒because he’s getting out much later‒but I thought maybe we can grab something together and then I’ll meet you later on back at the house.

That sounds good. Wait, why are you meeting Jack?

Not sure. Look, babe, I’ve got to go. Love you, see you later. He hangs up and I sigh again.

Okay. Well...I take a deep breath and dive into the first pile of paper that has formed a Mt. Vesuvius on the front left corner of my desk. I don’t know why I do this, but I do it all the time: allow myself to stack papers until they resemble some sort of messy design, insist that I can find anything at a moment’s notice in said pile, and then eventually dismantle the pile when I realize that the clutter is killing my creative vibe. I start sorting and at the same time my brain begins to think about the protein powerhouse that we need to create a new ad campaign for…what are they looking for again?

Something fresh.

Something new.

Something safe is what they’re not saying out loud, because they came across as wanting to play it safe, and yet somehow, we’re supposed to create a fresh, new approach to safe and…boring.

This should be fun.

Chapter Two

The quick-bite go-to place that James and I frequent far too often is a neighborhood bistro with fresh food galore. It helps me to stay on track, unless of course they trot out an amazing new flatbread which I am powerless to resist.

I enter the bistro and see James over by the bar ordering us both a glass of wine. He turns and looks over his shoulder as I make my way towards our favorite table, offering me a wink and a smile. I smile back as I shrug off my coat, place it over my chair, and greet our usual waiter. By the time James joins me with the wine, I have two glasses of water with lemon already on the table.

Well, hello gorgeous, he greets me as if he hasn’t seen me for ages.

This‒and this alone‒is enough to make me swoon, and in so doing, I remind myself that we’ve got a pretty good thing going. We’ve been married almost two years, and I still feel as if we’re in the honeymoon phase. Don’t get me wrong; that doesn’t mean that he knows how to make dishes jump from the sink into the dishwasher. He doesn’t. And his mother…well, let’s just say that if Vivian is the price I have to pay for the love of this man…most days he’s totally worth it.

So where are you off to after this? I never really got a chance to talk to him today and details are not his strong suit either way.

I’m meeting Jack for a drink downtown. He’s been working on this project at a school, and they generally do all the noisy stuff after the school is closed, so his hours right now are shifted. He shrugs.

Yes, Dez told me that he’ll be on the job down there for a few more weeks and then it’s back to waking up at the crack of dawn. I roll my eyes. The mere idea of getting up that early hurts my face. I think he wants to talk to you about the wedding.

Did they decide? He looks up as he’s giving the menu a cursory glance. I don’t know why he bothers when we both know we’re ordering the flatbread special.

I think so. She says so. I shrug myself. I just don’t want her to regret anything.

Look Rhonda, James pauses here, takes a sip of his drink, then dives in. Not everyone wants the fairytale white wedding with the hundreds of guests and the entire obligation that goes along with it.

I get that. It’s just… I trail off here, because I know James knows some of Dez’s backstory, but I know all of it, and I find myself not wanting to betray her confidence, even to him.

It’s a story in some ways typical: Dez’s Mom Amalia meets a man, falls in love, he ends up emotionally abusing her, she stays, eventually they break up, they get back together, she realizes he’s an alcoholic, then he realizes he’s an alcoholic, he has another girlfriend, she finds out, they break up, they get back together, always running back to Amalia…and now he’s currently residing in a faraway rehabilitation center. This would all be well and good, as per Dez, but the problem at hand is that he’s getting out soon and intending to go back to Amalia a ‘changed person.’

Dez doesn’t trust him as far as she could throw him (and believe me, she’d like to throw him very, very far) but the bigger issue is actually her mother. Her mother cannot see why Dez is not interested in giving this cretin another chance and therefore this has driven a wedge between them.

Hence the destination wedding that Dez is gunning for: no surprise guests, no surprise fights, nothing that Dez can’t control. I get her and I don’t blame her; I’m just not so sure Jack is completely onboard.

I know you love your friend. We all do, and I think Jack just wants to talk to me about the whole thing one more time before they make a final decision. James breaks into a genuine grin. Of course, I’m pushing him towards St. Lucia.

Of course you are. I shake my head.

It’ll be a great getaway for us, and you have to admit that we both need a serious vacation. James reaches across the table for my hand at the same moment the waiter delivers the flatbread.

Ooooh, we both exclaim, then drop hands quickly.

There is no talking for a full minute as we practically inhale the latest incarnation of our midweek fave. I let my mind wander as I chew, thinking about our last big trip, and then I picture a Caribbean beach, the water perfectly blue.

We definitely need another. I’m talking about a serious vacation.

Definitely, he agrees and raises his arm in order to get the waiter’s attention.

It takes a full minute before I realize that he’s talking about the flatbread.

Chapter Three

As I walk past the conference room the next day at work, I see everyone from my team swarming around the long table, heads down, rooting through what looks to be various types of baskets.

I pop my head in. Hey, what are you guys doing?

Perfect Protein sent us some samples, Lola seems overly excited by this, her fists full of little bars in crinkly wrappers.

I will bet money they all taste like cardboard, Ramon says with utter conviction, and Lola shoots him the daggers. I only came in here because I thought there might be some leftover birthday cake.

Ramon, it’s eleven in the morning, I point out.

So? It’s basically the same stuff people put in pancakes. It’s never too early for cake! He looks at me as if I have lost my mind.

I guess. I walk past him and Lola and peer into the newly decimated baskets. I pull out a protein bar labeled raspberry cheesecake. I see a Key Lime pie, but it doesn’t really grab my interest the way cheesecake does and probably always will.

I love cheesecake. Period.

I root around for another minute, grabbing Major Mocha for Dez, and then make the trek over to her office. She seems to be the only one working, and I have an idea I want to bounce off her.

Dez! I call out to her as I come through the door, waving my protein offering. She gives me the one-sec sign and then makes a few noncommittal noises before hanging up the phone.

Hey, she says and then shoves a clipboard away from her, pulling a face. I don’t know that I’m making my life any easier by having a destination wedding. What’s that? She points to the mocha bar.

I toss it over to her and she catches it. It’s our new client. Perfect Protein. Have you ever tried their bars?

No. What flavor is this, Styrofoam or plywood? She turns the bar over and begins inspecting the ingredients.

I bought you mocha. I shoot her a look. I took a raspberry cheesecake for myself, would you rather try that?

I’d rather have an actual piece of real-life raspberry cheesecake.

It’s eleven in the morning, I find myself pointing out again.

So? Isn’t it basically the same stuff they put in pancakes?

I groan before I answer her. Listen, Artie’s breezing in here about two-ish, and we’re supposed to meet for some sort of pow-wow in the conference room about then. Did you read his text? Artie is our boss, the Big Man on Campus who is given to the dramatic, and acts as if everything is a tragedy. He is also our biggest cheerleader, and we tend to love him in spite of himself.

Yes. Heavy on the –ish. She gives me a fabulous eye roll.

"Okay, so that being what it is, I’m going to go work